


Infinity Times Infinity

by imustspeakmyheart



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Persephone/Hades Myth, Rita is a harpy, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imustspeakmyheart/pseuds/imustspeakmyheart
Summary: There had been no way to prepare for him, for the marvel that was the God of Spring sprightly making his way from bliss into brimstone as if it wasn’t a jarring change from the world he was used to. He simply stood before Juno’s throne, casual as could be with his gaze never resting on a single point for long until those eyes met Juno’s.---Loosely based off of the myth of Hades and Persephone; Peter finds his way into the Underworld and Juno grapples with their seeminly irreconcilable godly natures even as Peter continues to draw Juno in.





	1. Seedling

**Author's Note:**

> I know Juno is already a mythological name but I'm just gonna be using their actual names throughout the fic, you know which gods they're representing so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Title from Sun by Sleeping at Last
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing!

Flowers clung to his form like a thousand stolen kisses, petals opening up and blooming along the lengths of his graceful limbs needing only the radiance of his skin for a sun. They seemed to grow from his hair, framed his face in vibrant spring colours.

If Juno had had a penchant for poetics he might have described his lips as budding rose petals, but Juno didn’t so he just thought the stranger had a mouth he’d really really like to kiss. But that wasn’t right, that wasn’t something the Lord of the dread Underworld should be thinking about a creature so luminous. For a second Juno felt filthy just for entertaining the thought of soiling this harbinger of life with the cruel kiss of death. He felt sick sitting on his throne looking down the steps as the stranger approached with a smile that was way sharper than it had any right to be.

There had been no way to prepare for him, for the marvel that was the God of Spring sprightly making his way from bliss into brimstone as if it wasn’t a jarring change from the world he was used to. He simply stood before Juno’s throne, casual as could be with his gaze never resting on a single point for long until those eyes met Juno’s. Rita was hovering around somewhere too, having announced the stranger’s arrival in an anxious whirlwind of words Juno hadn’t been able to make much sense of. She’d been afraid Juno would be angry, which wasn’t an entirely off-base assumption since he didn’t take very kindly to people wandering into his realm on most days. But it was clear from the very second he laid eyes on the beautiful stranger that this was a god like himself, not a mortal foolishly seeking to reverse a tender lover’s death or the like.

So Juno asked, schooling his features: “What brings you to the Underworld?”

Hearing the god’s voice in reply was as titillating as simply looking at him; it aroused in Juno visions of tinkling bells in the spring air, the sound of birdsong and the susurrus of a brook. For a moment it was all Juno could do to not make it apparent that no actual words he’d spoken had come through to him. The sly turn of the stranger’s mouth told him he needn’t have bothered.

“As I was saying, I was merely bored and in search of new horizons. Too curious for my own good, you see. My peers always tell me tall tales of the world below, riches known only to the oldest gods laying secure in the vaults protected by the God of Wealth, who of course also keeps watch over the souls of the dead. Some would say the latter is the bigger treasure.”

There was a certain level of irony in this statement, though whether he was mocking Juno or the other gods wasn’t clear.

“Please,” he bowed, one arm folded over his stomach. His gaze never left Juno’s. “Won’t you let me stay, Lord of the Underworld and Shepard of Souls?”

There was laughter in those eyes, as if this whole display was a joke that Juno didn’t understand the punchline of. The stranger was daring him to accept the offer and promising ample adventure in return of the like Juno could never have imagined; maybe that dare was the joke and he didn’t think Juno would accept. The stranger rose from his bow and stood primly with his hands behind his back, waiting and watching with a pleasant smile on his face. Juno gripped the cold stone of this throne, grounded himself and tried to forget the _something_ that was planted in his heart the moment he’d heard the stranger speak.

At his shoulder he heard Rita’s slightly panicked but dreamy rambling about how she tried “my damned hardest, boss, to stop him, but he’s just so charming. Do you think it’s a good idea to let him stay?”.

“Just don’t get in my way.” Juno felt himself say, mesmerized by the sparkle in those bright eyes that was a testament to a simple eager _excitement_ and pleasure in life that Juno had long since given up. It fascinated him, how alive this stranger was.

He looked ethereal, radiant, amidst the drab oppressiveness that hung over the underworld like a veil. Juno felt like he was going to blink and that beauty would disappear, snuffed out like all life eventually was. For a terrifying instant Juno felt the full force of fear in his breast, grieving for even the possibility of this man’s presence being erased from the world of the living.

With a subtle cough Juno righted himself in his throne, trying to rid himself of such thoughts and held up his hand when he found the stranger was about to heap his thanks onto him. Rita’s surprise was also palpable in her fluttering around him. Juno ignored both of them.

Steeling his gaze, he levelled it at the stranger standing below at the foot of the few steps that led up to his throne. The god’s smile faltered slightly and some of the soft petals adorning him seemed to grey. Juno stood and unclasped his heavy cape from around his neck, revealing fully the layered dress of black and purple fabric that adorned his frame. His silver crown, twisted branches adorned with thorns of onyx, twinkled in time with his ample rings and baubles in the perpetual fires that lit the Underworld. With some pleasure he noticed the stranger paling, though those eyes were also raking over his whole frame. Appreciating. Calculating. Juno started down the steps as he talked, each step accentuating his words.

“You will be allowed to stay. But remember, no one does damage to my realm and gets away with it. I’m sworn to protect the souls of this wretched world, and so I will. Not even a pretty face could distract me from that duty.”

He stood before the other god now, the fragrance of his adorning petals almost oppressive to his senses now. He stuck out his hand to shake, to formally welcome the newcomer into his realm, but his hand was taken and carefully brought to the stranger’s lips instead. The kiss was soft and lasted barely a second, but it was enough for Juno to stare a little too long at this glorious intruder, turned guest.

“Peter Nureyev, at your service. I promise that my presence will never be the slightest bother if I can help it,” That charming smile was back with the radiance of a sun Juno hadn’t seen in centuries heaped upon centuries.

“Well, Peter. Welcome to the Underworld. You can call me Juno.”

Juno was vaguely aware of Rita’s squeal of delight as she perched on the back of his throne. Peter had yet to release Juno’s hand and Juno didn’t pull away.

So Juno allowed this wanderer god, allowed _Peter_ , to stay in his domain for as long as he personally saw fit. He didn’t think Peter would even want to stay long, would get bored of dreariness and move on to greener pastures in quite the literal sense. They split ways, Peter going off on small tour that was offered to him by Rita (moonstruck and wide-eyed for Peter like Juno would never admit to feeling) which he gladly accepted. With another quick kiss to Juno’s knuckles he’d turned away with a flourish, impish smile promising _something_ in a way that sunk its hooks into Juno’s core and wouldn’t let go. When the two of them were a ways off, no doubt heading towards Tartarus since Rita always liked showing people that particular bit of the Underworld “for the drama” as she’d say, Juno mutely walked back up the steps and collapsed in his throne.

“I’m screwed.” He said to the empty air, a few souls floating blindly past and paying him no mind.

 

.~.

 

When it was time for it, a lavish banquet stood prepared for Juno and all the other lesser gods who served him. The rich fruits and meats pleased him, being one of the few pleasures he indulged in which reminded him of his status as the God of Wealth, something he too often forgot. Or more like discarded next to his duties as the shepherd of the Underworld; what need had he for wealth, exiled so far below ground and far away from any real luxury he might afford himself. He could make do with the scant furnishings of his godly living quarters, could do with instructing servants to venture upworld from time to time to fetch him rich drink and food he was himself unable to procure. So a feast it was; ambrosia and mortal drink and sensory delights as far as the table reached.

Juno himself barely partook in many of foodstuffs available – if one were to describe him as ascetic they’d be wrong, he was simply a fan of self-denial – but he took pride in providing for his retinue. And when Peter took a seat at the dinner table at a seat next to Juno which so happened to have been left vacant, well, Juno could be excused from being a little bit distracted from his dinner. The fact made him grumpy, that a part of him was so focused on the way that Peter was bringing a grape slowly to his mouth, eyeing Juno with this certain _look_ and, wait. That wasn’t right.

“Stop!” Juno exclaimed, all but slapping the purple fruit of Peter’s fingers with a crazed look in his eyes.

Peter’s eyes widened, not understanding the assault that he’d been subjected to. Sighing out a relieved breath, Juno clarified.

“You can’t eat anything here or you’ll be stuck for a goddamn eternity. Honestly, I don’t know who thought that was a good rule to put in, but well here we are. Really Rita, you didn’t think to tell him?” A certain nervousness entered his voice, rambling away his reason for acting so aggressively towards the thought of anyone else being stuck in this half-life, this underground penitentiary that would last forever. He threw a scalding look at Rita, who only pouted in response.

“Even if I grow it myself?” Peter asks, eyebrows drawn up delicately and eyes wide in a way that would be very comically adorable if Juno thought to use such words to describe anyone. Which he clearly didn’t. Rita replied before Juno could get a word in.

“It doesn’t work like that Mister Peter, anything that grows from our soil gets the curse! And before you say anything about not calling it a curse, Boss, you call living here a curse at least ten times a day and honestly it’s just way more exciting to say it like that. Adds some mystery, doesn’t it?”

Juno just rolled his eyes and sipped his ambrosia while Peter laughed delightedly, casting a glance Juno’s way.

“Oh my, Juno. Your Underworld keeps surprising me. Though you shouldn’t worry, I don’t think being stuck with a creature such as yourself would be such a horrible fate as you make it out to be. I think it’d be quite the adventure.”

Juno stilled, his cup of ambrosia halfway to his mouth.

“You’d be surprised.” He mused darkly.

And while the thought of condemning someone to an eternity of being stuck _here_ made him feel sick to his stomach even as the golden ambrosia slid down his throat, he couldn’t deny a certain exhilaration that welled up inside him looking at Peter and imagining him be as inextricably part of the Underworld as himself. But no, that wasn’t right, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Juno wouldn’t let it. 

“You’ve been quite a surprise from the get-go, Juno. And I’ll let you in on a secret: I happen to be fond of surprises.” Peter used the kind of tone that made Juno hesitant to look up and catch his eye. The moment didn’t last long, however, since Rita excitedly cut in.

“Oh! What does upstairs think of the Boss? Is there gossip? Do they think he eats dead souls to sustain his ever-draining well of power, are they scared of him?” She was wide eyed and curious, her voice amusingly theatrical, giving Peter her full attention which he basked in like a cat in the sun. Juno kept eating and tried to ignore the way Peter’s tinkling laugh made him feel. He stabbed a piece of meat maybe a little too violently, but no one else seemed to have noticed.

 “Nothing quite so extreme I’m afraid, I don’t think mortals think much about Juno here at all. Which is a shame if you ask me.” Juno could feel eyes on him, but remained stubbornly aloof just staring ahead at his food. Just the same, he hung on Peter’s every word with the practiced indifference of someone used to lying to himself. In truth Juno didn’t care one bit about what the upper world thought of him; the mortals and the gods alike. If he was disliked, so be it, the souls of men ended up here regardless of what their opinions were on death.

Or so that’s what Juno used to think. Listening to Peter, this beacon of light and life, speak about how he was prayed to for live-giving spring while they spared Juno barely a hateful thought, stung just the slightest bit. Hearing that life didn’t care for him, when, in his heart of hearts, Juno cared so much about life.

“I have to confess that before this little excursion came to my mind, I didn’t think much about your underworld either. Oh don’t pout like that, you can hardly blame me. Consider me converted, though.”

There was a touch to Juno’s hand, just the barest brush of a pinky finger against the length of his own. Juno started, then froze. Just the sound of their breathing and the undeniable buzz of conversation suddenly halted. Looking up slowly to the blank faces around the table, Rita arching her brow and teeming with questions, he got the feeling that no one else had seen the small brush of skin that had caused Juno to snatch his hand from the table like that.

Something in Juno had torn, just a little bit, in a way he didn’t understand. Peter was looking at him, shrewd eyes taking him in and coming to conclusions that Juno didn’t even want to think about. Helplessly Juno’s eyes slid from Peter back to his hand. He felt raw, like all he was feeling was broadcast so clearly on his face Peter must see it and feel disgusted. Well. Let him think what he will. With a breath Juno stood up, said a vague goodbye to Rita and his other retinue and left the table.

Where his feet took him was inconsequential, it wasn’t as if he could run away from his thoughts. His feelings. Damnit, such a slight touch, just Peter trying to find a connection here in this place that he was interested in exploring. But death rejected life just as surely as life did death, wasn’t that right? He snatched his crown from his head, wrapping his fingers around the thorns of onyx and feeling the sting, the pain. Reminding himself of who he was; that his dark touch stung just the same.

 


	2. Sapling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relationship, from seedling to sapling.

Juno did what he did best, he threw himself into his work so hard that he almost forgot the memory of rose petal hair and a fox’s grin. He usually thought it best to leave any guests of his realm to their own devices –as least, not with _his_ supervision- but then again, he was not thinking of any particular people wandering the underworld right now. Juno was doing his job, doing it to the damn best of his ability and he was very much not thinking of bright eyes and a brighter smile set in a face so radiant he wasn’t sure the very God of the Sun could compare.

No, he wasn’t thinking about Peter, or of how much of a mess his own feelings were after only a day of having met him. Juno realized, as he’s listening to some poor soul’s recounting of his life and trying his best to pay attention, that he’s a goddamn idiot and that the first pretty face to walk into the Underworld immediately caused him to be blundering fool. So he determined that until his work was finished, all souls given proper care and guidance and his realm surveyed like he did each day, he would not let his mind wander to Peter Nureyev.

It seemed though, that _someone_ was conspiring to keep him distracted since wherever he went Rita’s tour seemed to take Peter there. Receiving reports from other harpies like Rita? He was there waving from the other side of the clearing as Rita gesticulated widely and didn’t seem to notice Juno’s stupefied expression. Doing his rounds through the different sections of his realm? He was there at the gates of Elysium, or casually chatting up one of the Furies in Tartarus.

Juno started to tune him out, to ignore his smiles and waves, until eventually he decided to go to the one place where no one could bother him. Just to clear his mind before he continued his duties, just to quell the racing beat of his heart and the spinning of his mind which he chalked up to extreme and unmitigated annoyance at being constantly distracted. He just needed a breather.

The enormous gates of his vaults rose above him, casting him in a familiar shadow. Magic buzzed in its doors, the magic of centuries past carefully weaved into the very metal of the doors and the tiniest gears of its machinations. There was no visible line that separated the doors so that they seemed to be one wall of continuous and monolithic metal. When Juno placed his hand on it the grinding of shifting machinery filled the air and the doors slid open to reveal his treasury.

Juno’s eyes slid over his collections, his treasures, the Cornucopia that stood on its pedestal in the middle of the cavernous room besides his Cap of Invisibility. He sighed, shook his head and stepped inside, letting the doors close behind him with a resounding boom. Walking around his treasury meant little to Juno other than a moment of silence in an otherwise hectic immortal life; what value had he to ascribe to mortal treasure that was granted him for some reason only known to the Fates. So he walked among the coins and the gems and the statues and thought how this was just more stagnancy; dead money and old relics. More dead things to look after. It was only fitting.

Melancholy thought wasn’t what he’d come in there to do, however, so he found himself one of the lounging seats that was set up there and lay down. Folding his arms behind his head, he looked at the stone that seemed to be dripping down the ceiling. Then he closed his eyes and thought of nothing at all.

 

.~.

 

Juno left his treasury with a lighter heart and a quieter mind, his shoulders relaxed and posture less stiff than it had been since Peter entered his domain. The whirring of the treasury door’s machinations filled the air again as he exited, sighing contentedly as he usually did when he spent a few blessed moments alone.

“Oh, Rita said you might be here! What a fascinating system, I couldn’t even see there was a door here at all until it opened!”

Juno didn’t even catch half of the words being said as he jumped to the side startled at the voice that suddenly came from his right. He whipped his head in that direction, barely avoiding tripping over his elaborate skirts as he backed away.

Standing there, apparently already having forgotten that he’d addressed Juno first, was Peter, now entranced with the way the doors were slowly slotting back into each other into a seamless wall of dark steel. He ran his fingers over the surface, trying to see if there was any indication of a divot between the two doors, but finding none he put his fingers to his chin and inspected it more closely, bending over at the waist. Juno did not stare at how the fabric of his tunic fell over the curve of Peter’s ass as he did so.

“Incredible… Truly marvellous, how did you get by doors like this? Did Hephaestus make them for you? Surely none other could have made something so skilled.” Juno blinked at the barrage of questions, not having expected Peter to be there, much less to be grilling him about the doors to his treasury.  

“Uh. Yeah, he made them. They’re just doors, though. Nothing to get excited over.”

“Oh but Juno, these are a marvel of engineering and a whole lot of magic too, I assume. How do they open? Are they attuned to you? They don’t open for any old god, that’s very clear, I touched it just now. How amazing!”

The pace of Peter’s questions disoriented Juno, barely having kept up with his first round in the first place. It did seem that he was genuinely interested, but it was hard for Juno to imagine why a god of spring cared about some big hunks of metal that happened to be the only doors leading to his treasury. Still, it was equally hard not to get swept away in the childish exuberance of his excitement, those bright eyes looking at him like he was the only interesting thing on the planet because he held all the answers.

“They only open for me, no one else can get in. Something in the mechanism responds to my touch or some magic mumbo jumbo like that, I don’t know, ask Hephaestus if you really want to know.”

Peter was nodding thoughtfully to himself, having righted himself from his bent over position by now, though he was still looking at the doors. Juno supposed he must have a secret passion for smithing. Maybe being a god of flowers had gotten to be too tasteless for him.

Uncomfortably, Juno shifted in his space as he watched Peter. He was unsure of what to do, whether to continue the conversation, to say his farewells and leave Peter to his fancies. Or maybe to just stand there for a little while and admire the fact that apparently Peter’s flowy tunic flowed down over his shoulders where the fabric gathered up again at the small of his back, leaving a great expanse of soft looking skin bare. Juno blinked once, twice, then shook his head, bringing his hands up to rub over his eyes.

Wasn’t that exactly what he’d been avoiding Peter for in the first place? To prevent distracting thoughts like this?

“Well, I’ll be going back to work now. Enjoy my door, I guess.”

Juno turned to leave, removing his hand from his eyes to offer a small wave. Peter had other ideas. He swivelled around, a neat little turn balanced on one foot, and stepped toward Juno.

“Wait, I’d completely forgotten why I came out here to look for you in the first place! Please don’t run away just yet.” Peter moved his hand as if to place it on Juno’s arm, but thought better of it when he saw Juno’s wide-eyed expression. Instead, he smiled gently and folded his hands together in front of him. Pulling his lip between his teeth in contemplation, Juno eventually nodded and squared his posture, always prepared for the worst.

“I simply wanted to apologize to you, Juno, for whatever I said at the dinner table that seemed to have upset you.”

“You- Oh.” Juno’s eyebrows were raised in a likely very comical expression, judging by the little smile that flashed across Peter’s face.

“You didn’t say anything, don’t worry about it. So, if that was all, I’ll just..” He motioned his thumb over his shoulder, moving again as if to leave. An agitated sigh sounded from Peter. Again, he tried to move closer to Juno, who only regarded him from suspicious eyes more akin to a frightened animal than a god. He didn’t pull away, though, which Peter counted as a small victory.

“Juno.” And that voice; it was all Juno could do not to shiver at the genuine concern that single word seemed to convey. “It’s just that today I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but you’ve proven more elusive than most give you credit for. That gave me the impression you’d been avoiding me, that’s all. I really hope it wasn’t anything I said or did.”

The slightest touch of fingers on his arm; Peter had been brave enough to reach out again and Juno had let him, breathing shakily out of his nose and looking right into Peter’s eyes.

“You’re uh. You’re good, don’t worry. Busy day.” It might have been worth it to lie only to bask in what a sunrise must feel like, represented by Peter’s responding smile. The fingers on his arm grasped him briefly, squeezing once emphatically and then releasing him before the touch became unwelcome.

“Alright, Juno. I’ll take your word for it. I won’t bother you further.”

And after sunrise, sunset would follow. Peter was the one to slip away past Juno with a wink, leaving him feeling bereft for some reason he couldn’t quite place.

 

.~.

 

Over the days following that encounter, Peter started to leave him presents, flowers blooming on the armrests of his throne, on his dinner table, on his crown when left unattended. The daisies wrapping their stems around the thorny metal branches had actually been the first of them that he’d found.

Whether as an elaborate apology or a whim, Juno didn’t know. What he did know was that Peter was thorough, persistent and clearly very adamant about leaving a trail of flowers in the exact path that Juno would be following in any particular day. Juno would have words with Rita about that particular issue.

The petals that were strewn over his bed one morning smelled just like him, as if Peter had invited himself to Juno’s bed in a way that was more unavoidable than any dalliance could have been. The smell lingered for weeks and if it had been Peter’s plan to occupy Juno’s thoughts even in sleep he was surely succeeding.

No amount of flowers could mask the sulphur and flint that permeated the underworld, but Juno found him carrying some of Peter’s flowers with him as he went on errands throughout his realm, bright red roses and yellow dahlias starkly contrasted against the blacks and purples of his usual regalia.

The smell travelled with him, momentarily making any place he visited smell like a bower. Smell like Peter, as Juno couldn’t help but think to himself.

If Peter _had_ intended these gifts as an apology, well. He’d been forgiven a few hundred times over for every flower that brightened Juno’s day even slightly.

 

.~.

 

The Underworld knew many precipices and deep valleys, cliffs looking over the shaded lands below where the uncanny perpetual fires shone strange shadows onto the wan faces of wandering souls. Juno was standing at the edge of one of those cliffs looking over the lands of Asphodel, surveying his realm as the layers of his dress rustled in the steady breeze that seemed ever-present in his cavernous home. 

His arms were folded over each other, hugging his middle in the same way mortals might fruitlessly shield themselves from cold. Well, there was a certain coldness he was fighting, he’d admit to that, even though his arms would be useless combatting the depth of that particular chill. 

“My my, some might mistake you for Atlas the way your shoulders stoop so low.” Peter’s wind chime voice filled the air and Juno felt his shoulders straighten as he whipped up his bowed head.

There he was, small blooms growing and withering with every step he took, smiling that smile that made Juno think he knew everything there was to know in the world but still eternally wanted more. And yet, with the whole of Juno’s domain to explore he was here, standing next to Juno and looking nervously down into the valley below once he’d made his way to Juno’s side.

Only for a moment did Juno wonder how he hadn’t smelled Peter coming, something he was getting at with time, until he realized he had one of Peter’s gifts tucked behind his ear; a red rose.

Juno grimaced wryly. “Some might. And they wouldn’t exactly be wrong.”

There was more to be said, more pleasantries to be exchanged maybe, but Juno was in a contemplative mood and the radiant presence of Peter alone wasn’t enough to shake him from his reveries just yet. The other god seemed to be lost in thoughts of his own as they watched foggy shapes drift passed below.

Then, after a time.

“Would you mind if we sit down? A single gust of wind and I’m afraid me and my delicate petals might be blown off into the deep. We wouldn’t want that, would we, Juno?”

We. Juno marvelled at the effortless utterance of it, the casual assumption that they were both to sit and enjoy the view because Peter had joined Juno in his solitude and had made him a ‘we’.

Wordlessly, Juno nodded and made to sit down, folding his skirts beneath him and kicking his feet into the empty air. Peter sat next to him, crossing his legs under himself. Truth was that Juno was terribly afraid of heights, despite being a god and despite dealing with far more gruesome things on a daily basis. But he also liked the feeling of breeze in his hair with a freefall in front of him. Somehow that felt more free than his existence sometimes.

“So, what kind of serious thought brought you to this lonesome place looking like the very Platonic Ideal of the tragic hero in exile.” Peter grinned, leaning forward a bit to catch his eyes. When Juno didn’t exactly reciprocate the jovial air that Peter was putting on the spring god humph-ed a bit, pouting and leaning back on his hands.

Sharing the sometimes less than ideal parts of his work as a god was something Juno wasn’t used to at all; it was his responsibility to shoulder the burden that the millions of souls kept in the Underworld represented for him. He had helpers of course, other gods tasked with more minor jobs relating to the upkeep of the realm. Ultimately though, the responsibility was on him.

Therefore its tragedies were Juno’s alone to bear too, along with the souls who carried their stories to him to be heard for their allocation in the various regions of the Underworld. He looked at Peter, who was watching him in turn with an inscrutable expression on his face. It wasn’t lost on him that though Peter had seemingly wanted an answer out of Juno, he hadn’t pried. Juno frowned.

Too late Juno realized he hadn’t said anything and was only staring at the other god. Suddenly bashful, Juno averted his gaze to sweep it over the horizon instead, making some choices he would probably regret later.

“It’s just,” Peter visibly perked up with interest, leaning delicately on his folded hands, elbows rested on his knees. “some days are worse, I guess. Sometimes it’s weeks of poor souls dying of old age, sad but peaceful.”

Juno drew up his legs and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head in the divot between his knees. He couldn’t see Peter’s face anymore.

“Sometimes, though. Sometimes it’s fathers killed by the daughters they wronged, their head smashed to pieces inside a theatre mask. Sometimes it’s traumatized lost lovers stabbing their loved ones after years of separation and loss. Little kids dying on accident, nothing their sibling could do. Fuck, sometimes it’s sons being murdered by their own goddamn mothers.

“And I get to hear it all. Not only the bad, of course, but the good in their lives just makes their deaths worse sometimes. Many of them aren’t even good people, but I have to care for them too and hear them out. Protect them all the same.”

His skirts rustle as Juno plays with the fabric, bunching it in his hands as he talks.

“But you punish them too, right? I’ve seen all manner of miscreants in Tartarus, and those are just the worst offenders. Isn’t that some consolation?” Peter supplied, his voice closer than Juno might have expected it to be. Juno shook his head.

“Justice? Look, there’s never justice in tragedy, just more tragedy. If my life down here has taught me anything, it’s that. Keeper of tragedies, that’s a more fitting title than anything mortals have ever come up with.”

As if to punctuate his point a wail from below broke the silence, carrying through the air like a death knell. It came from a woman among the thronging of souls in the valley, perhaps having been startled from a sudden memory or remembered the fact that she has died while family remained behind. Juno didn’t know. He recalled a time at the dawn of death when he knew the story of every single soul in his custody. Now this woman was just alone in her grief, persisting after death.

“Juno?” The wailing had stopped, displaced in the ever moving procession of souls. Peter’s voice came as a shock to his system, having forgotten for a second that it wasn’t just him resting on this precipice.

“Yeah?” Juno said, moving his head so his cheek now rested on his knees, one eye looking at Peter.

“I’m thinking you’re likely the Underworld’s most tragic inmate.” And the softness of that statement alone was enough to catch Juno completely off guard.

“Just look at you, carrying the sadness of thousands of forgotten lives and still just-” A breath, a pair of impossibly bright eyes piercing his own with startling intensity. Juno’s first instinct is to hide, to get as far away from the gaze as he can but those anchor points keep his grounded somehow. “Caring so much. Feeling so deeply. Now, don’t argue with me, I can see it.”

And Juno had been about to rebuff, deny firmly that his immortal heart and soul rested in this place, this work. Peter shifted, pushing his legs underneath him so he was sitting on his knees, some petals falling to the ground as he did so. Juno turned his body to face him.

“Peter-”

Peter reach out and Juno could feel his finger trail through the short curls behind his ear. A shiver ran through his body and he was unable to move, just watched transfixed as Peter seemed to be looking at his own hand with a concentrated expression. Then the feelings of soft petals against his hair and skin, a stalk tucked behind his ear.

“You’re alive, Mister Juno My-Heart-Is-Made-Of-Steel. Don’t forget it.” With that, Peter rose in one fluid motion while the hand that had presented the flower brushed slowly up over Juno’s jaw to his chin until he was standing. There and suddenly gone like a spring breeze warming his face only to leave him colder in its absence.

Absentmindedly Juno picked the flower from its perch. A pink dahlia. He tucked it behind the rose already perched in his hair and quite unbidden a smile found its way to Juno’s lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Don't get used to this updating speed, I just had a good writing week. Will do my best tho. 
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	3. Growing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially the longest fic I've ever written and I hope it keeps being as fun to read as it is for me to write it! And it keeps getting longer so it's going to be 6 chapters instead of 4 haha

_You’re alive, don’t you forget it._ Those words had been spiralling in Juno’s thoughts ever since Peter had given him the gift of them. That’s exactly how he saw them, gifts just like the flowers, like the dahlia that had remained tucked behind his ear or his crown as a reminder of that moment. Juno knew eventually the dahlia would wilt, sooner rather than later considering the lack of water to sustain it, but he hadn’t the heart to take it off even to press in between paper for keepsakes.

Somehow he felt that parting with the dahlia was sacrilege of the highest degree, that it was different from all the other flowers Peter left drifting through the different areas of the underworld. Juno touched his fingers to the petals softly, feeling the delicate texture of them and taking comfort in their presence. And that was it, wasn’t it, Juno thought that if he abandoned the flower given after the gift of those words, well. The words would be forfeit too and Juno couldn’t let that happen.

 

.~.

 

Peter invited him on a walk. That alone was a marvel; even though they were on good terms now and Peter had taken to giving him such gifts, the novel of Peter wanting to spend time with him and inviting him specifically to this purpose… It was something Juno wasn’t used to, couldn’t be with the lacking amount of other gods to even spend time with. Sure he had Rita, they’d have long talks about everything and nothing for hours upon end whenever they both had the time for it. There were some other gods, who were just as busy as him with various tasks around the underworld. But this? Someone from the world up there, choosing to be there without the compulsion of Fate or whatever it was that made those who enjoyed food grown in the underworld have to stay there.

They were visiting a garden in Elysium, one of the few places where things actually grew of their own accord in the waste that was the Underworld. Souls passed by them, heroes of old who’d earned their eternity of peace and plenty. The occasional harpy flew over, though they had no need to pay much attention to the goings on of the blessed afterlife. Most importantly, Juno didn’t see Rita among their number which he would always be grateful for in situations like this.

The two of them were alone, walking in silence as they looked around, or well, as Peter looked around and Juno tried to think of something to say. Turned out he needn’t have bothered, as Peter was the one to break the silence.

“I see you’ve been keeping my little presents. I’m pleased you like them.” Peter’s voice startled him, having been too lost in the thought of them, Peter and him, walking side by side with their hands a mere hairs breadth away from touching. Self-consciously Juno reached up a hand to touch the dahlia tucked under his crown; it had already begun to wilt.

“Yeah they’re.. They’re nice.” He didn’t know what to say, could only grasp at words to even begin to explain what that flower meant to him. So instead he kept his chin up and tried to ignore the fact that his cheeks were burning in a way that was likely very visible to Peter.

“I didn’t peg the guardian of the underworld to be a lover of flowers, you continue to be a surprise. You don’t have a favourite do you? Or is the dahlia? I _am_ very good at guessing which flowers people will like, comes with the job I suppose.”

“I like these ones. They smell nice.” _Like you._ He pretended to be looking around at the trees and scant flowers that litter the garden, pretended to watch the souls drift past and enjoy the splendour of their afterlife, but from the corner of his eyes he kept looking back at Peter. Most of all he didn’t want to think about how apparently the only adjective he knew to describe things had become ‘nice’. He felt like a flighty bird, caged in a situation of his own making where he simultaneously wanted to leave and wanted anything but.

Peter was pensive for a while, which suited Juno fine. Then, a hand on his arm, Peter stepping in front of him and looking him in the eye with a look he couldn’t place.

“This poor fellow’s looking a little drab, don’t you think? Do you mind if I just-“ Peter placed one of his hands on Juno’s crown, lifting it off reverently. Peter was careful not to let the dahlia that had already been tucked under the crown fall down, taking it in his other hand before he’d lifted the crown off fully and pushing it behind his own ear.

His eyes were still on Juno, looking for any sign of disapproval, but Juno was much more concerned with the soft brush of Peter’s fingers on his scalp to even care about what those fingers were actually doing.

He murmured a soft assent, watching as Peter first tilted the crown from side to side, looking at the intricate metal crafting and the work on the gemstone thorns. It was fascinating, watching those fingers trail over the grooves of metal that Juno’s own fingers had touched countless times. Then Peter started to hum, holding the crown in one hand now as the other moved over the branches while his fingers danced and shifted. Before his eyes, stems formed out of the aether and wrapped around the cold stalks of his crown, sprouting leaves and eventually budding flowers all around the crown. Tiny dahlias encircled the thorns now so there was nothing left of their black, of their edges.

Juno held his breath.

Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Peter smiled and with the same gentleness as when he’d taken it off, put the crown back on Juno’s head. The flowers tickled at his hair and made it a foreign sensation to be wearing a crown he’d owned for centuries; it felt new. It felt like Peter had crowned him into something else, _someone_ else, as if a simple gesture as that could change Juno’s godly being and make it into something beautiful.

“There, those should last you a good while. Let’s explore that little grove there, I hear Achilles sits there with his beloved from time to time and I’d just love to see them.” Peter said, rushed in a way that took Juno a bit off guard after that whole display. He could swear something was off about him too, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

It took a good minute and Peter already being a few steps ahead of him before Juno could find it in himself to move, distracted by the strange softness resting on his head and the stimulation of puzzling at something, _someone_ , he can’t understand.

“How do you do that. I mean, how does it feel when you create a flower out of thin air. Create a- a life. Something that’s alive only because you willed it to be.” Juno asked as he caught up, sitting down next to Peter who’d already situated himself against the trunk of a large tree that grew in the grove he mentioned.

Peter let out a breathy laugh. That feeling of strangeness was already disappearing from Juno’s thoughts, replaced by that laugh repeated endlessly as if it was a song.

“How does a butterfly know it can fly? How does a new-born calf know it can walk? How do you know how to get a soul to tell you their innermost secrets? Simple answer is that I don’t know how I do it.”

Peter plucked at some grass, playing idly with the blades in his fingers. Juno is rapt with attention.

“How it feels, however. Well. It feels like I’m doing what I was meant to, like something slots into place somewhere inside. Of course, something small like creating a flower is just a vague echo of that feeling. My work up there is much more extensive; it takes a whole lot of work to make the world bloom in all the right places.” He closed off his answer with a wink and Juno snorts loudly, covering his mouth with a hand quickly. Peter’s answering smirk is a testament to his delight at having made him laugh.

“I thought that kinda stuff was more Aphrodite’s thing.” Juno said, hand still hovering over his mouth to hide the tiny smile that had bloomed.

In mock affront, Peter widened his eyes and placed a hand over his chest.

“Juno, I would _never_ encroach on the undoubtedly very hard and exhausting work she does every single night. Or day, I don’t suppose she’s picky.”

Another snort, before Juno’s shoulders shook and the soft sounds of stifled laughter filled the grove. After a moment he wiped at his eyes, catching the wetness gathered at their corners and forgetting that a grin was still firmly plastered onto his face.

When the souls of Achilles and Patroclus eventually did enter the grove, Juno didn’t notice that Peter didn’t spare them a single glance.

 

When they were eventually making their way back from Elysium, Peter talking idly or pointing out things that took his fancy, Juno remembered that Peter still had his original dahlia stuck behind his ear. Now, Juno had been doing a fine job of ignoring a lot of things about Peter, like the way his hair shone in the Underworld’s firelight or how keen his wit was or how his tunic flowed around the shape of his long legs leaving nothing to the imagination. If he tried hard enough he could take his denial further and pretend that he hadn’t spent days upon end twirling the flower between his fingers, smelling its fragrance and thinking of that night on the cliffs of Asphodel.

Only, he realized he really wanted that dahlia back. With startling clarity he felt the desire within himself to take the flower, press it between glass and display it in his treasury where it belonged. Finally something of value that he truly cared about and wanted to protect form the clutches of time. He wanted to preserve its life, if not the memory of its life, and keep the memory of how he came about the flower alive in his mind, well, forever.

Thus determined, he cleared his throat and put a hand on Peter’s arm to stop him. They’d reached the road leading to Juno’s palace, its great structure looming in the background.

Peter, who’d been talking this whole time and hadn’t realized that Juno clearly hadn’t been listening, made a questioning noise and stood still, turning his body so he faced Juno.

“What is it, Juno?” Something about his voice sounded expectant.

It took moment, them standing there while Juno avoided Peter’s gaze and tried to make sense of the hundreds of voices in his mind that were telling him that he was a sentimental fool for even thinking of asking this, that it was just a flower, that he had a crown full of dahlias now to last him days if not weeks. But for each of those voices there was one very clear undercurrent that contradicted them all. Juno didn’t know what to call that single overpowering voice, only that right now he wanted to listen to it.

“That flower, the dahlia you gave me. You still have it behind your ear, I just thought. I thought I’d like to have to back. IF you don’t mind, because it’s not a huge deal at all, but…” And before he could spiral, before Peter could interject and make him stutter in his lovelorn embarrassment, Juno reached out a hand to pick the flower from where it rested.

In the gesture he recalled Peter placing it behind his own ear, giving him that gift, his fingers trailing over his jaw as he pulled away. Peter in this moment was motionless.

His fingers brushed against the petals that had already started to brown and lose shape, but his gaze was drawn away from them by something he hadn’t noticed before.

“What…” Juno mused to himself, pulling the fading dahlia away from Peter’s hair only to see that a few of the petals usually blooming in his hair had also began to wilt. Juno heard Peter draw in a breath, likely realizing what he was looking at, though he didn’t move. He stood there, his eyes intent on Juno’s expression, expecting… something.  

“What’s what, Juno?” Peter asked, his tone taking Juno off guard. It was guarded in a way Juno had never experienced of Peter; a rose exceptionally good at hiding his thorns.

That was fine then. Juno took a breath and shrugged, casting one more doubtful look at the spots of brown dotting Peter’s otherwise vibrant hair.

“Trick of the light, I guess”

All the defensiveness melted out of Peter at an instant, like droplets falling off a curved leaf. He smiled at Juno like he’d just put on one of those theatre masks with the exaggerated grins, always contrasted by its frowning sister mask.

“Well, as I was saying Juno –”

Juno kept glancing at Peter from the corner of his eye, twirling the dahlia idly in his fingers, repeating _you’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive_ like a mortal charm in his mind, not sure who he was thinking it for.

 

.~.

 

Peter’s promise held true and the dahlias on his crown seemed to stay in bloom much longer than the first one had, now locked safely in his treasure as he had intended. As the days passed and Peter remained in the Underworld still, Juno almost forgot about the strange wilted petals he’d found in Peter’s hair. He kept a watchful eye on the other god whenever they spent time together, but he nothing else seemed to be off about him. Maybe Juno had been imagining it after all and they’d just been petals of his dahlia that had already fallen off and landed on Peter’s locks.

Juno sat on his throne as he ruminated on this, his legs draped over one of the armrests. Peter was gone to observe something he didn’t bother to hear, he didn’t have anything else to do that day and he was bored.

Absently he plucked at his dress, a new one he had brought in that was lighter and more flowy, feeling like a breeze brushing his body. It had given him the habit of kicking out his feet or shaking his legs just to feel the fabric rustle. At his left shoulder was tied a flower Peter had given him just that morning, a gardenia as he’d told Juno.

“Hey Boss, watcha doing?” Rita’s voice came like a thunderclap and Juno almost fell off his throne and down its steps. Clutching at the armrest he had been leaning his back against he glared upwards to see Rita perched on top of his throne.

“Rita for the last goddamn time, one of these days we’re going to find out whether gods can also die from heart attacks.” Juno righted himself, sitting cross-legged on his throne with his body turned toward Rita. His half-hearted glare was met with a dazzling mischievous grin.

“Sorry Boss, I just thought you wouldn’t have heard me if I’d talked super soft, being totally lost in thought and all. Who were you thinking about, huh?” She fluttered down with a beat of her wings, sitting on the armrest opposite Juno just so she could lean in real close and raise one of her eyebrows at him. Juno let out a longsuffering sigh.

“Oh I’m sure it wasn’t mister tall, bright and handsome, who you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with lately and is totally making you forget the other person you liked to hang out with _all_ the time before he showed up.” Rita continued without being prompted, spurred on rather than deterred by Juno’s non-response. She kept making this knowing _hmmmm_ sound at him, making Juno roll his eyes and look away.

“I don’t spend that much time with him.”

“I didn’t even say a name and you know exactly who I’m talking about hmm, yeah that’s right I knew there was something going on, you can’t hide _nothing_ from me boss!” Rita positively vibrated in excitement as she sat staring intently at Juno.

“Fuck Rita, we both know who you’re talking about because literally no one new has been here since Charon got hired.” Juno leaned back on his own armrest, one elbow on the cold stone of it. It was grounding, that cold. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he needed it to not blush like an idiot.

Rita’s face fell the most miniscule amount, but she persevered in true Rita fashion.

“Yeah, but I know what’s going on Boss. Mister ‘you may stay in my realm but do not get in my way’, seems like he’s been doing a lot of getting in your way.” Rita does her best impression of a sulky frown as she impersonated Juno, rather well if she did say so herself. The wink she tacked at the end was surely a win too.

“Okay, first off I don’t sound one bit that gruff and you know it.” Juno sat up a bit from his relaxed posture to point an accusing finger at Rita, who only stuck her tongue out at him and mouthed ‘oh sure’.

“Second,” and Juno had no idea what his second point was, but it had felt powerful to talk in lists. “Second, none of your business okay…” He uncrossed his legs and sat on his throne the right way, leaning his elbows on his knees and holding his cheeks with his hands. Rita was forced to move too, flying up and landing a little ways in front of Juno. She could see that he was very clearly pouting, likely feeling sorry for himself.

“Hey Boss,” she approached him cautiously, tilting her head and laying a hand on his shoulder soothingly until he looked up at her, still pouting. “I didn’t mean anything bad with it, you just seem so happy is all. When you hang out with Mister Peter, I mean. Of course I’d totally love it and it would make my day if you wanna hang out with me too sometimes, you know, since we’re best underworld buds and all. But you deserve this and I don’t want to see you be a sulky sourpuss about it, alright?”

“Yeah…Yeah if you say so, Rita. I think I left something in the treasury that I really need for. Something. See you later Rita.” Juno scrambled up, pushing past Rita only to do a quick turn around and give her a one armed hug that she was barely able to return. Then Juno was out of her sight and through one of the doors that led out of the throne room.

“It’s okay to have feelings, Boss!!” Rita yelled after him, knowing it was a lost cause. Juno steadfastly made his way to his quiet place where he could ignore the budding _feelings_ inside of him as much as he wanted. The dahlia in its display of glass standing on its new pedestal, however, quickly made it clear to Juno that even in his treasury he couldn’t hide anymore.

 

.~.

 

It was Juno who’d initiated this little escapade, motivated both by the desire to show Peter something remarkable and by the simple fact that he was way overdue a visit to one of his favourite denizens of the Underworld. Not because he just felt like spending more time with Peter. Not at all.

“I have to say, Juno, I’m really curious. You’ve never invited me anywhere special before.” Peter quipped, a spring in his step as he walked beside Juno. He was smiling and for one moment Juno caught his eye before he nervously ducked his face away and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s nothing special or anything, just thought it’d be nice to kill two birds with one stone. Visit a friend and take you out. Out on a walk. To my friend.” Juno muttered a curse under his breath at his choice of words, shaking his head and avoiding looking at Peter at all costs.

Eventually the pair reached a small sloping valley, curving downwards. The sound of running water could be heard as they continued down and they reached the source of the noise: the river Styx winding its way through the underworld and eventually back up again.

“If you meant to show me the river, Juno, I’m afraid I’ve already-“

Ignoring him, Juno put his index finger and thumb together into a circle and put it in his mouth, whistling as loudly as he could. For moment, nothing but the rushing of the river. Then, the bounding of enormous footfalls, running full tilt towards them at great speed. Juno could see Peter from the corner of his eye looking around in curious alarm.

It was hard to keep a smile from his mouth as the source of the noise came into view, three heads barking happily when they could also finally see Juno around the corner of the valley that they’d come from.

The three-headed monstrosity came to a rough stop a few feet in front of them, kicking up dust and earth as its massive paws dug into the ground to stop itself. Peter coughed and waved his hand in front of his face to clear his vision. The awestruck look that followed was worth gold. With some effort he tore his eyes away from Peter’s face and with a smile Juno casually made his way to the big dog, reaching out his hand for the three heads to sniff at enthusiastically, bickering with each other who would be allowed to lick Juno’s face first.

“I missed you too, Small Fry. Come here you big girl, were you good today? Did a god job protecting everyone? I’m sure you did.”

All three of her heads descended on him at once, licking his face with tongues that were at least double its size. Juno laughed, scratching any part Small Fry’s muzzles he could reach with his two hands, switching between the heads all seeking his attention as best he could. Small Fry huffed affectionately, pressing one of her noses into Juno’s hair and knocking off his crown. Juno didn’t care one bit.

He was so caught up with greeting her that he didn’t notice Peter standing a little ways off, one of his hands covering his mouth to hide the fond smile that he couldn’t bring himself to supress. After long moments of Juno roughhousing with the big dog monster, pushing her heads away from him as they tried to nip at him and his dress all the while making the most adorable indignant protests, Peter coughed delicately.

Too elated to be self-conscious, Juno turned his face towards the sound. He was breathless and grinning, eyes alive with the feeling that Peter chased his every waking breath. He wanted to capture it, store it there in Juno’s eyes so he could look at it forever. Alas.

“So, who’s this?”

“Small Fry.” Juno said, as if was the most natural thing in the world.

One brow arched up, Peter’s gaze flicking towards the hulking shape of ‘Small Fry’, at least three times their size.

“Small… Fry… Juno-“

“She was small when we got her, okay. She’ll always be Small Fry, no matter how big she gets. Isn’t that right big girl?” At the answering barks, Juno looked at Peter and motioned his hand towards Small Fry.

“See, she agrees.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Your face is ridiculous.” Petulantly, Juno turned his face back towards Small Fry, who was looking at Peter warily as Juno poked one of her noses with an index finger absently. Behind him, he heard Peter chuckle softly and immediately he was glad he’d turned away his face.

He pet Small Fry some more, attempting to release some of the giddiness he was feeling. With a soft grounding breath he walked back toward Peter, Small Fry following him with cautious steps, her eyes on Peter.

“Come on, let her smell you.” Juno looked up from under his eyelashes, nervous to be sharing something like this with him but equally too excited to contain it all.

At Peter’s frown and subsequent theatrical expression that very much resembled a turtle retreating into its shell, Juno rolled his eyes and stepped forward, grabbing Peter’s hand in his. He moved to stand next to Peter and raised their hands up between them, Juno’s hand curled loosely on top of Peter’s.

“Juno–” Peter didn’t look panicked per se, just the slightest bit put off at the thought of a giant dog monster possibly licking his hands. Juno squeezed his fingers as well he could, hopefully reassuringly.

“Trust me.” Juno said softly, seriously, motioning discreetly with his other hand at Small Fry that she should stay where she was and not come closer yet.

Only when he got a nod from Peter did Juno turn his eyes back to Small Fry, signalling with the tiniest incline of his head that she should come smell Peter’s hand. Ever so carefully, all three of her heads crowded around their raised hands, sniffling and blowing hot breaths onto their skin that made Peter squirm a bit.

Small Fry raised her heads again, away from their hands and Juno let go of Peter who immediately looked at him like his lifeline had been cut. To his right Juno could see Small Fry lower her front to the ground, raising her behind playfully. Juno’s eyes twinkled.

“Juno.” Came Peter’s alarmed voice as Juno began stepping away from him rapidly, in time with Small Fry wagging her tail and wiggling her whole body. Peter’s eyes widened, catching on to what was going on and he tried valiantly to chase Juno who was now running away from him with a delighted laugh bubbling in his chest.

“Juno, what -!”

“She likes you, Peter, accept her love!” Juno shouted, wheeling around on his heels as he heard the inevitable sound of Small Fry pouncing on Peter, who was now lying with his face in the dirt being smothered by a whole lot of dog heads. Three tongues licked him until he now lay on his back, sputtering uselessly. Juno could maybe make out some words among all the gibberish, all of them directed toward him and none very kind until Peter seemed to settle.

Small Fry eased off of him, tongues lolling out of her mouths comically. Peter just looked up at her, a little breathless. Then he sat up and of his own accord reached out a hand to stroke one of her chins. The proud grin that he directed at Juno when he was finally petting Small Fry himself was indescribable.

“Oh, you like me Small Fry, beautiful girl? You do? Why, you're just marvellous.”

Juno had seen Eros’s handiwork many times in his Underworld, had seen the aftermath of badly made matches as well as the tragedy of well-made ones destined to die way before their beloved. He never thought he’d ever get to feel what it might be like to be struck with one of those arrows himself. At that moment Juno thought the Fates had a very bad sense of humour, because when he looked at Peter coo at Small Fry as if she’d been his pet for an eternity of lives before this he felt an overwhelming softness in his heart. If that was what an arrow felt like, well. Maybe that was alright.

 


	4. Budding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I urge all of you to look at this beautiful art Sam made of Persephone Peter, it still takes my breath away!!  
> https://twitter.com/spicybruha/status/1046534947064958976

It snuck up on him, this feeling of normalcy. Often it was almost like Peter had always been in the Underworld; had always dined at Juno’s side telling boisterous stories of the upper world with such elaborate full-body gesticulations that he couldn’t help but brush against Juno’s hip or shoulder or hand. Juno found that Peter emoted with his entire being, from the twitch of his fingers to the arch of his brow to the tapping of a foot. The fact that it had become increasingly easy to figure out what these theatricalities meant and that he wanted to figure him out more still… it was terrifying.

But he’d chosen to let Peter stay here, didn’t question his presence anymore in the same way that he didn’t question his own place in the ever-shifting design of the fate of the world. Or, well. That was a bit of lie wasn’t it? Juno questioned the bullshit that was Fate often enough. Though, if for just a day, a week, a few months, he could bask in the sun that was Peter’s smile, well… He felt like he might be owed that, after the life he’d been forced to live.

And Peter did smile, often and with abandon, in a way Juno had never quite been able to do ever since the Underworld was appointed to him. Watching Peter smile made the corners of Juno’s mouth quirk up almost of their own accord, a softness in his chest that made him feel light somehow. And that was probably the most terrifying of all.

After the day he’d introduced Peter to Small Fry things had changed between them. Maybe not on Peter’s end, he’d been flirting with Juno from the start, but certainly Juno felt something shift in himself. He’d begun to actually seek Peter out in earnest, to spend time with him when he wasn’t off doing things with Rita or any of the other gods he’d sometimes talk to.

Juno was scared, that couldn’t be denied. Scared of giving himself – his heart – away to someone who could never keep it. Scared that Peter would one day have to leave, back to the world where he truly belonged while Juno stayed behind. He argued with himself that he’d never been happier than with Peter and he could never be worse off than he was before he’d met the other god. He could deal with the hurt that he’d have to endure at one point; he’d have an immortal life to heal after all. There was no doubt in Juno’s mind that this would all end in tragedy.

The truth was that Juno had long since learned to take what joy he could get, mostly present now in his friendship with Rita, Small Fry, and his steadfast dedication to the souls he protected. What harm could there be to adding Peter to that small list of joys?

This was just what he did best, rationalize everything away into neat categories of things to be dealt with. It was how he structured the Underworld, sorting out souls to their designated places, and so did he place people within the framework of his heart. He knew he’d let Peter in long before he even really gave it any thought, that he was a fixture there just as much as he was a fixture in the Underworld now. But all things would come to an end eventually, especially here were all dead things ended up.

All the same, they were in a sort of skittish dance around each other now. Peter sometimes avoided him and it was Juno who had to chase after him this time, finally used to the feeling of wanting to spend time with Peter. It was almost natural to him to seek the other out, a day not complete without a conversation at least. Of course they saw each other at dinner, where more often than not Peter sat next to Juno, but Peter proved elusive when he wanted to be.

Sometimes Juno would find him in the oddest places, wandering along the Styx or stalking the hallway leading to his treasury. He seemed agitated somehow and more than once Juno felt the urge to ask him what was wrong, but he was afraid of what he might hear.

       

It was one of those evenings where Juno hadn’t seen Peter for the whole day, which more often than not made him cranky and contemplative. It was never the immediate reason, but deep down he knew that it was easier to overthink when he was alone, without the distraction of those twinkling eyes that made him forget all the ways that this could go so very wrong.    

Juno was laying on the soft ground of a field just outside his palace, arms behind his head and looking upward into the endless expanse of black that extended ever upwards. He’d say it looked just like the night sky of the upper world, except for the absence of stars, if he even remembered what the real sky looked like. It wasn’t often that he pondered on what he knew and didn’t know of the world outside of his purview, the world that moved on and changed while the underworld remained the dumping ground for the living world’s rejects.

Tonight he was in a mood, however, ready to drown himself in melancholy contemplation until one of his duties demanded his attention or until he felt too tired to even think. Whichever came first.

He thought of how much he wanted Peter to be there with him, then. The thought came to him suddenly, unexpectedly and for a second he didn’t know what to do with himself except grimace and click his tongue. _Come on Juno, Peter had better things to do than lie down and stare at the void with you._ Things like… well, fuck if Juno knew, he wasn’t exactly in the loop with how much of the underworld Peter had seen already and how much he hadn’t.

They talked about it sometimes, but honestly the other god was so vague about it that the stopped trying. Though, if he were to guess he’d say that after the amount of time he’d already been down here he should have had the opportunity to see everything by now. Even so, he figured Peter could make everything exciting for himself if he should choose to do so. Why he would choose to stay was beyond Juno.

“Sulking again, are we? Do you need another rousing speech?” He heard the voice first, right before two impossibly bright eyes became the only stars against the black of that imagined sky. Peter was standing just above him, his bare feet close to Juno’s shoulder. Juno hadn’t heard him coming, sneaky bastard.

Juno rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the swell of emotion that the other’s presence elicited and motioned with a vague gesture that Peter was welcome to join him. He’d expected Peter to sit down, cross-legged maybe, and looking around a bit before getting bored, but he actually laid down too, his hands relaxed on his belly and his head close to one of Juno’s upper arms.

When Peter turned his face toward Juno, his hair tickled against Juno’s elbow. There were significantly less flowers adorning his locks, Juno noticed vaguely, more concerned by their closeness to think to ask about it.

“I don’t sulk.” Juno said, pointedly avoiding looking anywhere near his right, his gaze steadily upwards. Peter’s breath ghosted over his arm as he laughed.

“Of course you don’t, my mistake. You brood, then?” Peter responded, not missing a beat.  Without even having to see it, Juno could tell Peter’s eyes were wrinkling at the corners the way they tended to do when he was amused. It always came with a specific lilt to his voice and not for the first time Juno was startled by how he just _knew_ these things.

“Look, if you’re gonna be insulting me every time we talk, maybe I can go sulk somewhere else.”

“Ah, so you admit it!” Peter said, triumph clear in his voice. Juno felt him bump his foot against his playfully. “Don’t worry, Juno. Everyone needs a good sulk from time to time.”

“Even you?” Juno turned his eyes to Peter. The words had been softer than he’d intended.

“Yes. Even I. Life isn’t all sunshine and endless flowers up there you know.” It was Peter’s turn to look away and turn his gaze to their makeshift sky. Juno felt bereft of his stars.

“Tell me about it. Up there. What’s it like?” It was against his better judgement, asking this and possibly learning about a world he desperately wanted to be part of, but couldn’t. Getting closer to Peter who inevitably would leave and return to his rightful place among the living had been an equally bad idea, though, Juno couldn’t deny that. The words had been out of his mouth before he could reign them in.          

Peter hummed thoughtfully, pursing his lips. Then he answered: “It’s beautiful, naturally. Wonders you can’t even dream of.”

At Juno’s indignant snort, he was quick to add “Oh, I didn’t mean you as in, youspecifically, apologies Juno.

“I just mean that we are gods, we created this world piece by piece, but the fascinating thing is that the pieces don’t all slot together perfectly. Different gods created different things, often without the knowledge of what the others were creating or already had. Many pieces were already in place before any of us were even born, when the Titans still walked free. How these pieces interact, overlap, contradict each other, but most importantly still _work_ , it’s just…Incredible.”

That last word was emphasized with Peter turning towards Juno again, and Juno, entranced with his words, felt like he could cry. A treacherous part of him whispered of what it would be like to have Peter say that, look into his eyes and be talking about _him_.

“You’ve figured most of those pieces out by now then, since you decided to come here of all places.” Juno couldn’t hide a slight bitterness from his tone, thinking the Underworld was the last possible place anyone would ever think to go.

“No, I wouldn’t say I have. I simply felt like a change of scenery. A challenge. An adventure.” Peter said, leaning towards Juno conspiringly as if they were both in on a secret no one else knew.

“But you didn’t ask about the Underworld and why I came here. The world up there, it’s remarkable in its wonders but it can grow stale. Harvest after harvest, without a break. My duties take me over the whole world, but it’s always just that. Maintain eternal spring, keep the people happy. Frankly, it’s quite dull.”

He kept his eyes on Juno, who was just staring back not knowing what to say. Peter’s view of the world, his excitement to learn more about it and to explore all these different pieces as he called them….Juno had never heard anything like it. Peter had said before that he’d come to the Underworld for some excitement, he knew that much. Yet it was a shock to hear so frankly that Peter considered the upper world to have an equal potential for dullness.

“But… You can go anywhere, the world is at your feet! How can that be boring?” Juno said, sitting up and leaning on one elbow with his body still turned toward Peter. He only got an arched brow and a bemused look in response.

“Do you find it boring here? Your life, I mean.”

“Uh. Sometimes, yeah. I guess it’s boring.” Juno admitted, shrugging non-comitally.

“Well, Juno. For me this has got to be the least boring place imaginable. Just look at all of this.” Peter swept one of his arms into the air, motioning outward and almost hitting Juno in the chest. “It’s remarkable.”

Juno rolled his eyes, laying back down just slightly closer to Peter than they’d been before. He wondered whether he was included in what made the Underworld remarkable, but when he came to the conclusion that that couldn’t possibly be the case he felt himself frown.

"I can’t imagine you haven’t seen everything there is to see yet. You know, sometimes I wonder what you’re still doing here.” Juno barely grumbled out that last part. The situation made Juno braver, somehow. The cool Underworld air on his skin never quite seeped in, because of the warm body next to him.

Peter nudged Juno’s side, affronted. “If you want me gone you can just say so, darling.”

The pet name and the insinuation that Juno could possibly want Peter gone out of the Underworld threw him off entirely. He felt his face blush, yet rather than turn away from the source of it, he involuntarily shifted closer. For a moment he just gaped at Peter, opening and closing his mouth without knowing exactly what he wanted to say.

“I never said I wanted that.” Juno said eventually, the words _I don’t want you to go_ stuck in his throat. He almost regretted not saying them, until Peter smiled a brilliant smile and he was too taken in to feel any regret.

“I’m glad to hear it, then.” Peter sounded pleased beyond belief, his smile curled at the edges like the cat who got the cream. Juno really didn’t want to ask this next question, but it came to him anyway, brought to light by their conversation.

“When… when do you plan on leaving?” He was tentative, afraid of the answer but desperate for it at the same time.

Peter idly picked at his fingers above his chest as he thought about this, humming under his breath to acknowledge the question. Juno watched the motions from the corner of his eye; his fingers were long and beautiful, but then again any part of Peter was beautiful. He flicked his eyes back up before Peter could notice.

“I have some things I still need to see here. I don’t know, Juno. That all depends on things that are out of my hands.”

Suddenly, Peter turned on his side and was moving his head as to catch Juno’s eyes. Juno made a valiant effort to keep looking upward at the void but eventually gave in.

“What?”

“Will you miss me when I leave?”

The question hung in the air for a long time, Peter staring at Juno patiently while he looked at anything but Peter. What could he even answer to that? His chest felt full, a rush of feeling having come over him at the thought of Peter wanting to know, Peter thinking about the possibility of Juno missing him. It was intoxicating, exhilarating. Terrifying.

They’d been doing this dance around each other for what seemed like an eternity already, it shouldn’t be news to either of them that there was something between them that they hadn’t named yet. Didn’t dare to name, in Juno’s case. Would he miss Peter? What a question. He’d miss him more than the sun, the fresh air, the freedom of up there. He’d miss him more than life. But of course, Juno didn’t say any of this.

“What’s it to you?” Juno answered, instead. His mouth took on a nasty sneer and he hoped it wouldn’t upset Peter, though at the same time he hoped he’d see who Juno really was, turn tail and run.

“My, Juno. No need to be so defensive, I like to think we forged a strong enough bond to warrant missing each other, wouldn’t you say?” Peter didn’t sound bothered, more amused and mock petulant. “I’ll miss _you._ ”

The thing was that Juno wanted to be truthful, wanted to let the other god know that _yes_ he’d miss him, yes he thought about him constantly, yes he still carried around his flowers each and every day. Knowing the reality of his feelings for Peter and admitting them to himself were one thing; he could internalize those and relish in every attention he was lucky enough to receive.

It was quite another thing to live in the reality that meant Peter was going to leave one day or another with Juno’s heart unknowingly tucked like a stowaway in his pocket. Here he was asking whether Juno would miss him, admitting himself that he’d miss Juno. Suddenly, it was too much, this build-up of feeling inside his chest.

“Fuck, okay. Yes I’d miss you, a whole damn lot. But I know you can’t stay, you shouldn’t stay, as much I might want you to. Because you don’t belong here.” Juno answered all at once, words tumbling out of his mouth the second his will wavered. He kept resolutely looking upward and Peter didn’t seek out his gaze anymore. “You don’t belong with me, with death and sorrow and all the things that rot.”

It was silent for a long time after that and as Juno looked up at the far-reaching blackness above him, he could almost convince himself that he was really there, alone in the void. Only Peter’s smell kept him somewhat grounded, intoxicating and familiar even as it had started to seem duller and less full if he really payed attention to it.

He heard movement next to him an a moment later Peter was leaning into his vision, sat upright and twisted at the hip to face Juno. His head was tilted, his eyes determined like he was trying to figure Juno out as if he’s some puzzle to be solved. Peter liked puzzles, as he’d said.

After a while the staring became disconcerting, but Peter talked before Juno could comment on it.

“Come with me to my bower? We can continue talking there.” His voice was unbelievably soft and there was something to it that Juno couldn’t place.

“What, why?”

“I think you’d benefit from a change in scenery that doesn’t enable your excessive brooding and I’d like for you to humour me.”

Peter had gotten up while they were doing this little back and forth, stretching his body when he was standing again in a way that made Juno want to go anywhere in the world with him if he only asked. How could he refuse when Peter then bent down and offered him his outstretched hand?

“Okay.” He said, breathless and a little confused, but oh so willing. “Okay. Show me”

 

Peter led him to a part of the Underworld Juno didn’t come to very often, a little ways off the river as it flowed into Tartarus. It wasn’t hard to spot the place that the god of spring had made into his home for the past months.

Before they’d even reached the bower, flowers littered the ground at intervals, forming a path towards the domed structure of Peter’s abode. The bower itself was small, a circular structure of twisted wood grown into and over each other, overgrown with all manner of leaf and flower in colours of such variety that it was a bit dizzying. In the monochrome of the Underworld, it stuck out like a beacon.

The entrance retracted before them and Peter led him inside, the overwhelming smell of thousands of clashing flower scents all he concentrate on for a moment. Then Peter took his hand and led him to a patch of soft looking leaves, motioning him to sit down.

“Anything to eat? It’s rather late.” Peter asked, walking around the overgrown room, looking over his shoulder to wait for Juno’s answer. He sat there and eventually nodded, liking the distraction from whatever conversation they were going to be having now that Peter had invited him here. It was strange, being in Peter’s space like that, surrounded by something he’d created. Built up from the infertile, dead earth of the Underworld. There was a metaphor in there somewhere, he was sure.

“You won’t be able to eat anything, though. You don’t mind?” Juno tentatively asked, watching as Peter reached out a hand to one of the branches that made up the wall of his bower. Juno could swear he saw sweat build on his forehead as one of the sprouts budded and grew into a fully grown pomegranate.

 “Of course not, Juno. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Here you go.” He threw the fruit at Juno, who caught it easily. When Peter sat down opposite him, he offered Juno a knife as well. He used it to cut the pomegranate in four pieces, peeling the sections apart to reveal the red seeds within.

Without thinking too much about it, Juno began eating as Peter sat there watching him silently. It was a bit disconcerting after a while, but Juno figured he was just thinking and not ogling him or something equally unlikely.

“So,” Juno began, fruit still in his mouth, causing rivulets of juice to drip down his chin, “anything you wanted to talk about that you could only do here, or what?”

Peter chuckled and leaned into Juno’s space a bit, swiping at his chin with a finger before bringing the now red-tinged digit to his mouth. The piece of pomegranate Juno had been about to take a bite off lay forgotten in his hand as he looked at Peter.

“I just wanted to tell you that you should give yourself more credit and that it’s completely warranted for me to miss you. And that I think you should stop lying to yourself when you tell yourself you’re not worth it. Worth anything. Worth … Worth me. You’ll excuse me if I’m presuming things, but I hope we’re on the same page with that.”

The fox-like grin, combined with that small but intimate touch had Juno speechless, enough that he flitted his eyes about the bower and ended up taking another bite of pomegranate seeds just to have an excuse not to respond.

Sure he’d sulked at Peter before, he’d laid bare some bits of his soul that he’d shown no one else, not even Rita. This, though? His feelings regarding the upper world. His feelings about Peter. It was something he didn’t exactly want to talk about.

“Look, Peter. I- I don’t know how to do this. We don’t get the luxury of love down here, we don’t get dalliances and affairs. We’re not like you, like the gods up there who savour life. I can’t do this to you, can’t you understand? Only death lives down here.”

Peter scoffed, shifting closer to Juno trying to catch his eye. He could tell Juno was spiralling and wanted to put an end to it before it really began.

“You have more honest empathy and care in your character than all of the upper gods combined, Juno, don’t you see? More care for mortal life than _any_ of them. It’s all just a game to them, they’re just lives to be thrown away. But you?” Peter paused, the desperation in his eyes palpable. “You value life exactly because you see how it all ends.”

Juno made a shocked intake of breath, feeling wetness behind his eyes and a fullness in his chest at the words. He shook them off, though, closing his eyes to collect himself before looking at Peter again. He saw in Peter’s eyes that he knew Juno wasn’t listening to him.

Peter let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head before squaring his body resolutely in front of Juno.

“Give me your hands, Juno. I want to show you something.”

Confused, but willing, Juno reaches out his hands, watching as Peter took them in his and positioned them so they formed a little cup. Peter’s brows drew together in concentration, one of his hands coming to hover above the cup until slowly but surely a beautiful flower bloomed in the cup of Juno’s hands, roots hanging down through his fingers. It took a considerably longer amount of time than Juno could remember it usually taking when Peter created a flower, but he kept that thought to himself, too entranced by the whole thing to even care too much.

“This is life. This is me.” Peter said, before he touched a finger to the flower and it began to wither, petals folding up into themselves and stem collapsing into Juno’s cupped hands. “And that’s you. The Underworld.”

Juno felt his stomach sink, overcome by a feeling of disgust. “If this is supposed to be enlightening in any way I already- “

“Juno. Shut up.” Peter harshly interrupted him with a soft smack to his arm. “Look”

From the remains of the dead flower, Peter made a new sprout grow, green leaves peeking out from the browned rotted stem. It bloomed into a rose, now suspended between them in their joined hands. Juno was grappling with what this was supposed to mean, staring at the flower as if it could show him all the secrets of the universe. Lost, he turned to Peter.

“So.. You just grew another flower, so what?” He said, not comprehending and too stubborn in his own convictions to actively try.  Peter’s free hand came to rest on Juno’s knee and he leaned in closer.

“Death destroys life, yes, but it also creates it. Makes room for new life, nourished by what is now dead. Because of you, I see more clearly than ever that life _needs_ death. Just as much as death needs life. We’re not so different, you and I. Two sides of the same coin, if you will.” Peter concluded. The roots of the new flower were still growing, knotting their fingers together where Peter’s left hand was cradled under Juno’s.

Juno could only look with parted lips from the flower to Peter and back again, the fragrance of the bower they were sitting in overwhelming his senses. There was only the grass and curling vines against his legs, Peter’s hand on his knee, their hands entwined. Peter’s eyes assessing him, growing concerned the longer Juno went without any reaction or reply.

His logical mind was telling him to just leave the situation as it was, give some snarky reply and remove himself from the temptation that would inevitably result in getting one or both of them hurt.

There was another part of Juno that wanted, so badly, to feel just for once what it was like to feel alive, to throw caution to the wind and live in the glorious _now._ Just feeling that again, that want, was intoxicating. Juno had been screwed from the start, he’d said so much himself, so what was one more act of defiance to cement the state of his heart?

His eyes flicked upward, Peter so much closer than he’d been just a second ago like he could see right into Juno’s head, know his inner battle and see which side was winning. _You’re alive, Juno. Don’t you forget it._ He read in that look, and Juno remembered Peter on that first day they met, the promise that had been in those eyes even then. The promise of adventure, of _more ._

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Juno did something foolish.

When their lips met, it was as if the whole world burst into bloom around them. It was a soft, brief kiss, by all accounts unremarkable, but when he pulled back the whole bower seemed to have transformed. And Peter, he was grinning ear to ear with a slightly dazed expression and hundreds upon hundreds of petals flourishing all over his skin.

Then he seemed to realize what had happened, looking sheepishly at the little blooms littering his skin. It was endearing, how embarrassed he was by this, as if he’d never seen this happen before and was bewildered by himself.

Juno leaned in again, just to prove that this was real and to show Peter that there wasn’t anything to be ashamed about. He could feel Peter sigh into the kiss, his lips pliant under Juno’s, and it was like a weight lifted from his shoulders all at once. It wasn’t until he felt teeth tug at his lip and he wanted to tangle his hand into Peter’s hair that he realized their hands were still entwined.

With a surprised laugh he moved back, earning a questioning noise from Peter. “Can I, uh. Get my hands back. As much as it’s a pretty flower, I’d rather hold a prettier one.” He didn’t even get the chance to be embarrassed about his words; with his free hand Peter plucked the flower and disentangled the roots, tucking the rose behind Juno’s ear in a familiar gesture.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were such a charmer, Juno? We could have been doing this for weeks.” Peter smiled, lips only a hair's breadth away from Juno’s. He could feel soft petals tickling his skin.

“Just means we have a lot to catch up on is all.” Clutching at Peter’s hair, pulling him close and feeling a daring tongue explore his mouth felt like a freedom he’d never dared to hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last update until after the penumbra mini bang, there will be one or two more chapters plus an epilogue.  
> Since I also have my BA thesis to write this semester i can't work on the bang, this AND my thesis so i hope this is at least a good end for now!
> 
> Thank you, as always, so much for reading!!


	5. Blooming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's mild sexual content in this chapter, though it's kept pretty vague and isn't very explicit at all, but just be aware that it's there in case that isn't your cup of tea.

It felt like an eternity before they pulled away from each other, tangled up in eachother like their hands had been. Juno’s fingers were in Peter’s hair, feeling the brittle stems of flowers twisting around them. They pressed their foreheads together, noses bumping and making them both laugh giddilly. 

Juno felt like something inside of him had burst open, like a flower had bloomed inside his chest, its petals turning imperceptibly toward Peter as if he were Juno’s own miniature sun. He felt full, sated, but hungry at the same time. The life of this flower seemed fragile somehow, like a moment in shadow would turn it to dust. Juno pressed closer to Peter, as much as that was possible, and just basked in the reality of this new intimacy they’d found. 

He leaned in to kiss Peter again, just the slightest press of his lips, marvelling at how he could  _ do  _ that now and Peter would let him. When Peter hummed a pleased sound, Juno could feel the vibration of it against his mouth. 

“Juno.” The name sounded like a prayer, the way humans said his name at their altars when they desperately wanted something. With Peter saying his name like that, it was the kind of prayer Juno knew he would answer every single time. A hand traveled from his knee to his upper thigh and he felt Peter’s thumb trace circles there.  

“Yeah?” He whispered, voice cracking on that single syllable because he’d tasted sweet hope on Peter’s tongue, but centuries of getting his hopes up were waiting to turn it to ash in his mouth. 

Peter seemed to hesitate, his hand stilling on Juno’s thigh for an almost imperceptible moment. Then his mouth broke into his usual radiant smile and it was as if nothing had happened. “Nothing, you’re just so beautiful, you stole the thought right from my head.” Juno had no smart quip in response, that wild hope blossoming ever upward from his chest into his throat. 

With his loss for words, he kissed Peter again, the other god’s lips opening for him eagerly. They got lost in it again for a while, exploring every way they liked to kiss and touch each other with the languid assurance of immortals who knew they had all the time they would ever need. Juno’s new wildflower heart beat in anticipation of every new press of their bodies against each other and with great clarity he finally understood why Icarus had killed himself over a simple desire for  _ more  _ of that all-consuming light. 

Eventually their lips parted. Juno opened his eyes just as Peter did they same, their limbs tangled and faces still close. One of Peter’s hands was a comforting warmth on Juno’s cheek, holding him like he was something to be treasured, tracing his thumb over his skin so gently it made Juno’s breath catch. 

After all the kissing, which hadn’t been nearly enough if Juno was concerned, not even if they kept at it for an eternity, that was what had him choked up. He had never dared to even think about ever having this, to be held so reverently like he could be loved like anyone else. 

When he thought of what Peter had said, about life and death  _ needing  _ each other, Juno hadn’t considered this. The way they held each other, exchanged quick kisses like the thought of not touching each other any way they could was simply unimaginable, that was a need he was still learning to understand. Love, lust, affection, those had always been things the other gods felt and forced upon anyone they fancied. Juno had never been like that, isolated as he was in the Underworld and unwilling to subject anyone to his maudlin company for longer than they could possibly stand.

Leaning in, kissing Peter, and being kissed back with enthusiasm, with a want that equaled his own... The catharsis Juno felt each and every time couldn’t be described in simple words. Juno leaned in again, just the slightest brush of his lips over Peter’s, and smiled when he felt the corners of Peter’s mouth twitch up too. 

It was miraculous, truly, how easy it was now to push any of his doubts and anxieties away. All he had to do was look at Peter at his side to make everything slot into place. Even if Juno couldn’t understand what the other god saw in him, why the foolhardy gamble of that kiss had paid off, or even why Peter had come into the underworld in the first place, none of it mattered. Peter’s hand in his, firm and so very real, was like the final piece of a puzzle Juno never realized he’d been trying to complete. 

He was suddenly and irrevocably sure that this was right and true and good. Juno didn’t need to be one of the Fates to know that this need he felt for Peter now came from somewhere deep, like something inside of him was calling out to its other half, or rather to something that made him...More. More himself, more like a person. Just more. Maybe Peter had been feeling it all along and his little theory about life and death was just an extension of this. 

Juno breathed out sharply, amused at himself. If he’d known he had such a romantic inclinations it might not have taken him so long to get involved with Peter like this. 

“What’s so funny?” Peter asked, smiling down at him, his face all soft and kind, framed by the vibrant ceiling of his bower. Juno moved to take one of Peter’s hands in his, needing something to ground him. 

“Nothing, just- This. Us.” Juno said, hesitant on the last word. “I was thinking about how  _ good _ you are, and that I’m an idiot for denying for too long that you make me feel good too. I was thinking it feels … like this was somehow meant to be.”  

“Oh, Juno.” Something crossed over Peter’s face like a mask switched out too soon and Juno couldn’t catch what it meant before there were two incredibly fond eyes trained on him, chasing any thought from his mind. “I didn’t expect you to be such a romantic. It does feel nice, doesn’t it, thinking that we were destined in some way. Destined to meet, and connect.” Peter winked at Juno, who looked away, but squeezed Peter’s hand a little all the same.  

“Can’t blame a lady for wanting to believe in romance, even if he spent his whole life, well. In a place like this. I guess you bring it out in me.” Unconsciously, he raised one of his hands to touch the rose still tucked behind his ear, earning him a beaming smile and a giddy peck on the lips from Peter.

“Well, if that’s my legacy, who am I to complain.”   

 

Their kisses grew more heated and Juno wanted to be closer to Peter, so close that the heat of his sun scorched his skin. He wanted to chase away the darkness that he’d always felt inside of him and be filled for all eternity with Peter’s vibrancy. He wanted and he wanted. Juno really wasn’t used to wanting so much, but here Peter was, pressing back against him with fervour in an intoxicating exchange of mutual desire. 

Juno let Peter press him into the soft flowerbed, ever so gently crowding into his space. Their lips were locked and it was hard to keep up with all of the sensations flooding his senses. The last time Juno had done anything even close to where this was going was eons ago, so here he was rediscovering his own body as Peter kissed his neck and pushed his skirts up his legs so his hands could roam his skin.

He got lost in it for a while, Peter’s lips on his jaw, then down to his collarbone, all the while those slender hands were stroking up his thighs and hips. With his eyes closed, Juno simply enjoyed the sensations, twisting his own fingers into Peter’s hair as blossoms awakened among his dark locks. 

 

There was a sound as if paper crinkling as he moved his fingers, and Juno felt something give under their light press. His eyes shot open to see the crushed remains of a withered flower bud get caught in Peter’s silky hair, the dust also coating his fingers. Peter himself was mouthing hotly at Juno’s neck, making it a bit harder to focus, but when Peter moaned Juno very clearly could see a previously bright red bloom lose its colour. 

“Peter.” Juno whispered, alarmed but cautious. 

Peter only hummed vaguely in response, apparently too busy sucking a mark into the soft skin of Juno’s throat. It would be so easy to allow himself to get lost in this again, the twist of their bodies and the steady building heat. And he almost did; his concern wavered as Peter wrenched a groan from him with his clever hands, causing his eyes to fall shut again. Juno gave in, carding his hands through Peter’s hair so he could find purchase as his body rocked in time with Peter’s movements. 

But then he felt it again, brittle petals under his fingertips that broke apart at the slightest touch, and when he opened his eyes all he could see was a withered pasture of dried-out flowers that had been blooming only moments ago. 

With a startled cry, Juno pushed at Peter’s shoulders to create some distance between them, not really thinking about how much force he was putting into it until the other god was sprawled out on his back a foot away from him. Peter had a moment of dazed confusion until his expression turned into affront. Hurt flashed over his face, seeing Juno breathing heavily and staring at him as if he’d seen a ghost. 

For a while neither of them said anything. Juno just couldn’t help but stare at Peter’s hair, until he eventually noticed that that wasn’t the only place on Peter’s body where his flowers had started dying. 

“Juno, if you wanted me to slow down- .” Peter started, his eyes widening when Juno interrupted slightly frantically. 

“What’s going on with your hair. Your- your flowers.”

Peter stilled, then ever so slowly reached up a hand to feel at his hair. Juno could see his throat bob nervously, bringing his fingers back down to find them coated with dust. There were no daisies anymore, nor violets, or bright buttercups. Juno waited for Peter to jump up in fear, to cry in distress, just to act surprised by this in any form. Instead, Peter simply inspected his fingers, rubbing the tips together almost disinterestedly, without any indication that this was new to him. 

When Peter met Juno’s gaze, he could see the grim resignation there, like he’d been gotten. Like he’d been hiding this all this time without Juno ever noticing, and he was afraid of having been discovered. 

“What’s going on Peter?” Juno asked again, sitting there unmoving. Peter sighed, and the forlorn look on his face felt like an eclipse. 

“I- Hold on a moment, Juno dear.” He said, but his voice was strained. It had nothing of the vibrant tinkling tones that Juno was used to. Peter took a moment to sit up, crossing his legs. Then he closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths and new life came to the flowers littering his body, petals curling outwards to meet a sun that wasn’t there. 

“Alright, I suppose I owe you an explanation.” Peter sighed, the newborn flowers seeming to droop with the motion. Juno nodded wordlessly, trying his best to keep calm even though the lightness of his heart had been rapidly replaced by a stone-cold dread. Evening out his breathing seemed all he could do, eyes firmly trained on Peter’s chest-falls to keep time with him. 

“Simply said, my dear, I’m a conduit for the world’s harvest, for its growth and health. I reflect the world up there, and well. I’ve been gone.”

“What?” Juno said, though he barely registered his own speech. 

“I mean, Juno, that it… it’s quite stopped growing. Without me there can be no spring.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while. Things have been a bit hectic in my life, first it was my BA thesis at the end of last year and then I started my MA year right after with a month to find a room for myself to live in and get things settled. And yeah, MA degrees don't mess around.   
> Besides that I've just been very insecure about my writing in general and I'm super duper stuck on this story. I do intend to finish it one day and I hope this small update is at least something, though I'm sorry to leave you guys with a slight cliffhanger, oops. No clue when the next chapter will be out, just that the next one will be the last, followed by an epilogue. Thank you to everyone who's left comments and kudos while this fic has been on hiatus, it really means the world to me! <333
> 
> As always you can find me on tumblr as imustspeakmyheart and on twitter as exuberantlybuds c: kudos and comments always appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always highly appreciated!!!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at imustspeakmyheart


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